


A Hotel Rendezvous

by persephoneggsy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, season 3 finale referenced, timey-wimey relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneggsy/pseuds/persephoneggsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is looking for someone who can comfort him in a time of distress. Who better to do that than the Doctor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hotel Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> yup, still doctorcest trash

* * *

 

The golden moon of Genzat Five glimmered down on the well-to-do guests at the hotel; among them loitered the Doctor, looking, for once in his many lifetimes, perfectly in place. This was most likely due to his outfit, a modern-yet-simple black suit, complete with a silk bowtie. Said item of clothing was currently being tugged at by a rather uncomfortable Time Lord, who would have traded anything for his old, patterned tie. However, such clothing was not permitted at five-star accommodations like The Emerald Field, the hotel that the Doctor currently had a room in. A room that he could not go inside until his other guest turned up.

_If_ he turned up.

So the Doctor was left to worry absently at his bottom lip, holding a banana daiquiri in one hand as the other kept tugging at the restrictive bowtie. Honestly, would he really come to _like_ the damn things in the future? He glanced all around him, hoping to catch a glimpse of ridiculous hair or laughing green eyes, but all he saw were the same, stuffy, too-rich-to-even-hold-our-own-food hotel guests. The centuries-old being pouted.

With a sigh, he set down his empty glass and turned to saunter back inside. No one at the party would have even noticed his absence, he was sure. In fact, he doubted many of them even knew what the party was for. He sure as hell didn’t.

Just as he walked through the gilded doors of The Emerald Field, into a room where no one, not even an attendant was present, a hand darted out of nowhere and grabbed the Doctor’s arm, effectively startling the Time Lord into yelping. Or at least, he would have yelped, but the owner of the hand silenced him with the pressing of his lips against the Doctor’s own.

The Doctor stared, wide-eyed, at his assailant: the Doctor himself.

The other Doctor, his future incarnation who will hitherto be referred to as ‘Eleven’ (as will the first Doctor be called ‘Ten’), was dressed in his normal clothes, a Victorian-inspired affair of purple tweed and a grey waistcoat- and, as always, a burgundy bowtie completed the effect of a modern gentleman from the late 19th century.

Eleven broke the kiss just as Ten was beginning to relax into it, causing the younger Time Lord to pout once again.

“And where the hell have you been?” he asked accusingly.

Eleven grinned in his infuriating way, intertwining his hands with his younger self. “Sorry, love. Traffic was hell.”

Ten was unimpressed. “You have a _time machine.”_

“Oh, what do you want? I just got back from the North Pole after beating back an Ice Warrior from two thousand years ago. Excuse me for not arriving _precisely_ on time.”

“I’ve been here for two hours,” Ten continued, still frowning. “You could have arrived more precisely than you did.”

“And why are you so impatient, hm? Did you miss me?” Eleven’s response was accompanied by another cheeky grin.

“Of course I did,” Ten answered, with so much genuine honesty that Eleven had to pause to stare at him. The older Time Lord even blushed a bit, to Ten’s amusement. “It’s been six months since I last saw you,” he added softly.

“Ah.” Eleven’s face relaxed into an understanding smile. “It’s only been around a week for me.”

Ten huffed, curling his hands around his future form’s waist. “Anyway, we’re both here now.”

“Yes,” Eleven nodded, leaning ever so slightly into his fellow Time Lord’s touch. “Nice place, by the way. Why’d you pick here?”

Ten shrugged. “The Emerald Field is one of this galaxy’s most refined hotels; top-quality guests, food, services…” His voice dropped to a low whisper, “And, from what I’ve heard, _extremely_ comfortable beds.”

“Really now?” Eleven laughed, tugging his younger self forwards. “Well, I suppose we wouldn’t really know unless we tried them out, right?”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

Eleven whispered into his ear, “Lead the way, _Doctor.”_

Ten suppressed a shiver, instead tightening his grip around the older Time Lord’s waist. “Of course, _Doctor.”_

 

* * *

 

One of the more interesting things about Genzat Five was that in addition to their golden moon, they had a dark blue sun. So waking up in the morning felt an awful lot like waking up at night for non-locals, what with the shades of late evening blue poking through the windows.

Of course, the Doctors, never having been creatures for sleep anyway, merely relaxed in their bed, observing the slow change of colors from iridescent gold to dark blue.

The bed _was_ extremely comfortable, if anyone was wondering. Layers of blankets and soft plush pillows were strewn all about the emperor-sized mattress, with two Time Lords lying at the center of it all. Ten had his arms hooked around Eleven’s midsection, his cheek pressed to the older Doctor’s naked back. Eleven was holding a pillow close to his chest, enjoying the feeling of both the high-quality silk and feathers and the warmth of his timeline-defying lover.

Ten shifted, bringing his head up so that he could address his older self properly. A somber tone overtook the normally cheerful man’s voice.

“The Master came back.”

He felt Eleven tense. The young-faced Time Lord twisted around, and Ten nearly crumpled at the sight. Eleven’s eyes shone with everything he knew they would- compassion, understanding… pity.

“And Martha?” he asked. Ten dropped his gaze to the plush sheets.

“She left. She… She wanted to take care of her family. But you knew all that already.”

“I’m sorry.” Eleven brought his hand to Ten’s cheek, thumb stroking the barely-noticeable freckles on his previous form’s face.

“I just… We know how he is. How he _always_ is. And I knew that he was going to go away some way or another, he wasn’t just going to stick around, but-...”

“But you were hoping nonetheless,” finished Eleven. “He was our friend. And he was the only other Time Lord out there besides us. You wanted him to stay.”

Ten kept his breathing steady. Of course Eleven would know those things- he’d thought them himself, years ago. One of the advantages of dating your future self; he always knew what to say.

“And now I’ve got no one. No companion, no Time Lord… other than myself.” Ten chuckled mirthlessly, causing Eleven to frown. “I’m by myself. Again.”

“But you won’t be forever,” Eleven said, moving to sit up. As he did, Ten released his grip on the older Time Lord’s waist. “You’ll find others. And Martha keeps in contact, like she promised she would.”

“Yeah, yeah, because you’ve been through all that.” Ten sat up, too, resting his chin on Eleven’s shoulder. “I know. But the actual being alone part is…”

“Excruciating.”

“Yeah.”

Pausing for a moment, Ten stared at his future self’s face, while the eleventh Doctor looked down at the blankets, pretending to be very interested in their texture. Finally, the younger Time Lord sighed.

“You know… Sometimes I wish it could just be us.”

Eleven furrowed his brow. “‘Scuse me?”

“I wish _we_ could be each other’s companions,” Ten continued, feeling a bit embarrassed now. “Then we’d never feel that heartbreak.”

Eleven then did something Ten did not expect- he smiled. “What if you regenerated? Then there’d be two of me running about. Or if I regenerated. You might not like that one as much as me.”

Ten hummed. “That is true. Honestly, of all our bodies, I think these two fit the best together. Aesthetically _and_ physically.” He raised a suggestive eyebrow at his lover, who rolled his eyes in response. Then, his face becoming neutral, he said quietly, “But we’d still be friends. Wouldn’t we?” A touch of uncertainty colored his voice.

“Course we would. We’re each other. How could we not be friends? Unless we become _outrageously_ self-loathing in the future.”

Ten laughed at that, and Eleven took the opportunity to press a kiss to the skinnier Time Lord’s temple. Ten smiled contentedly.

“Don’t suppose you could tell me the name of my next companion?” he tried.

Eleven’s response was as he predicted. “Spoilers.”

“Of course. Why do I even bother?” Ten huffed, though his expression clearly showed that he wasn’t annoyed.  
  
They both chuckled, and Ten pulled his future self into an embrace, and both fell back to the bed in a heap of giggles and silk.


End file.
